


You Asked For It

by RedfieldandNivans



Series: Dog Tags [7]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: B.S.A.A. downtime, Gen, Krowes brings his own food, Life at work, Lunch with the Crew, Male Bonding, Mess Hall fun, New B.S.A.A. base, Piers is BACK boys, Piers is in charge of training Alpha 3.0, Post RE6, SNAILS...???, Set in the DogTags timeline AFTER our True Strength fic, crude language, giving the LT a hard time, he's weird like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 23:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11023608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedfieldandNivans/pseuds/RedfieldandNivans
Summary: Just another day at the North America Branch!Piers eats lunch with his new Crew at the B.S.A.A.-run mess hall, and the boys have a little fun with their new team lead...is that really such a good idea, boys?





	You Asked For It

**Author's Note:**

> Another post RE6 short for those of you who asked me to write more of them (whilst still working on our other fics...)! This one features Piers enjoying time with his new family.

“Oh _hell_ no- nuh uh. _NOPE._ ” Piers backed away from the food being offered to him as though it was still alive and reaching out for him.

The ginger-haired marine by the name of Lt. Zachary Krowes was grinning broadly as he reached over the lunch table with something incredibly questionable dangling from the end of his fork. Piers made a face at it and put his hands up in defense.

_“I’m good, thanks.”_

Several of their crew mates took notice of the outburst a few tables over and turned in their seats to watch the growing spectacle. Lt. Nivans was being backed into a metaphorical corner by a food item? _This_ had to be good.

“C’mon man, just eat it.” Krowes insisted. The fork inched closer, forcing Piers to hop backward off the bench he was sitting on and jump away.

“I bet he’s heard that before,” Lt. Joshua Murder sniggered under his breath from his place next to his red headed partner.

Piers pointed a bandaged finger at the blonde pilot, having heard him clearly through the chatter and noise of the mess hall, “Hey, I’ve done some crazy shit in my lifetime, but there’s _no way_ I’m about to put a snail in my mouth.”

“But you’ll eat raw fish.” Krowes pointed out, giving up on forcing the delicacy on someone with no appreciation for the finer things. He settled back into his seat and popped the morsel into his mouth. Piers sat back down at his own plate cautiously a moment later.

“Sashimi is an entirely different animal… literally,” he countered, picking up his fork again and watching Krowes like a hawk. Krowes was that one guy who would bring his own food to work; in this case his own food, can opener, utensils, seasoning, and toaster oven.

“Sushi. Escargot. They both taste like pussy.”

Laughter burst out from several tables nearby.

“How would _you_ know, Lieutenant?” Came yet another rebuttal from the table adjacent. The clearly female voice belonged to one Lieutenant Colonel Valentine seated just near enough to have overheard the crude banter.

Her presence had been overlooked until now and the sudden reminder that they were in mixed company had the next round of laughter sounding a little on the nervous side, even if it was at the expense of the boisterous Krowes.

“I don’t ma’am. I can only speculate,” he joked almost respectfully, hunching down over his meal with a suppressed laugh. He coughed into his fist alongside the others.

Piers gave the marine a warning look, cautioning him to choose his next words carefully if he wanted to keep his current status as a member of the organization. Valentine didn't put up with anyone's nonsense. Not even the new guys'. Krowes smartly let his comments die with the moment. He chose instead to give a smirking Piers the finger.

Piers shook his head, unable to hide the smile forming on his lips. _Dumbass._

The hall hushed back to its normal decibel of quiet conversation. For about a minute and a half no one at the table said anything. Then: 

“You really shouldn’t knock it before you try it, Nivans.”

The whole table groaned at their comrade’s inability to let things go.

Lt. Krowes defended himself, “I’m _just saying_!”

The group looked to Piers who sighed heavily and leaned across the table to poke his fork into the dark squishy body of one of the snails. The fact that it was dripping butter didn’t make the marksman feel any better about it.

Piers pretended to consider stuffing the tiny dead creature into his mouth, while the gang waited intently for him to do it.

Funny thing about giving a sniper a hard time…

_“Hey Zach, ever played Five Finger Fillet?”_

You _don’t_ give a sniper a hard time.

Krowes chuckled, “You need a knife to-- AHH!”

The skewered snail met the surface of the table with a startling bang. Krowes jumped back in his seat with wide eyes, holding his remarkably uninjured hand to his chest in shock.

Piers smirked and let go of the fork handle. It stood upright, its prongs stuck in the wood where the Lieutenant’s hand had been. Lucky for Krowes, Piers had good aim. In this case, he was aiming for the half inch of space between the fingers of the guy’s right hand.

“I’ll pass on the damn snail.”

The men at the table stared at the sniper in disbelief. Did he really just take a stab at one of his men?

Piers grabbed up his plate and stood from the table, “I’ll see you boys on the proving ground.”

The way he laughed as he walked away filled the others with a deep sense of dread.

“Good job, Krowes. Now we’re all gonna pay for your stupidity.”

“Stupidity? More like my _generosity!_ I was trying to share my lunch with him. We learned this shit in first grade, people. What’s so wrong about that?”

“Now we’re going to die...”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“We’re going to die _horribly_. ”


End file.
